


Friends Past and Present

by JantoJones



Series: Stand-alone Two (The 2nd 100) [26]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 16:55:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: Illya calls on a favour from a former friend.





	Friends Past and Present

On a table, in the middle of a remote, single roomed shack, a lone candle burned. Rather than illuminate the space, it merely seemed to accentuate the darkness of the moonless night. Ordinarily, Illya Kuryakin would not have had any light on show. Pin-pointing his position went against every instinct he had but, in this case, it was a necessity; albeit an exceptionally dangerous one. The man Illya was meeting needed to be able to find the shack in the dark and, with a lot of luck, nobody else would be aware of the meeting. Only one other person knew of this clandestine rendezvous, and Illya was certain that Alexander Waverly was a man he could trust implicitly.

Illya had been in position for several hours and the cold of the night was beginning to chill his bones. Having the candle burning was perilous enough, so lighting a fire was completely out of the question. He didn’t mind the cold so much but, he couldn’t afford the chill to hamper the use of his fingers, so he held his hands close to the tiny flame. 

It was well past 2 am when Illya finally heard a vehicle approaching, and he drew his weapon in preparation. He knew the man who was coming far too well to allow his guard to drop anywhere around him. Snuffing the candle, Illya stepped outside with the gun raised.

“It is as though you do not trust me,” the visitor commented, in Russian, as he stepped fromthe car.

“That is a luxury I can ill afford with you,” Illya replied, in their shared native tongue, trying not to remember the time they had been friends.

Radomil Semyonovich Kozlov had gone through naval training alongside Illya, where the pair had enjoyed a friendly rivalry. Over time they had become firm friends and, despite their careers taking them on different paths, had remained so until the day a secret was discovered.

“You were never in any danger from me,” Radomil told him. “You still remain safe.”

“Only because I had no family you could use against me,” Illya snapped back. “Did any of the others ever discover what you were up to?”

“I did not come here to discuss the past,” Kozlov stated, resolutely ignoring Illya’s question. “Do you want your package or not?”

“I surmise that, since you complied with my request, that your secret is still unknown. Had it been in the public domain, you would not be here. Is he unharmed?”

“There is some damage, but nothing that won’t heal. I hope you realise that should it be discovered that I rescued him, I will undoubtedly be killed.”

“That is not my problem,” Illya grunted with a tone as cold as ice.

Opening the trunk, Radomil dragged out an unconscious Napoleon Solo. It was too dark for Illya to see how badly injured he was, but he knew Thrush’s methods weren’t pretty. 

When Napoleon had gone missing, Illya had discovered, purely by chance, that his for former friend from the navy was working with the man who had taken him. He’d made contact Radomil and given him an ultimatum, with the blessing of Alexander Waverly.

Not another word was said between the two men as Kozlov got back into his car and drove off. Illya was acutely aware that he had just made himself another enemy who would be gunning for him but, as he was one amongst many, he wasn’t too worried. Besides, Radomil would never be sure if Illya had passed his secret to anyone else.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………….

Napoleon awoke to the sounds and smells of a hospital. He could tell before opening his eyes that it was the medical suite at U.N.C.L.E HQ. He groaned as he tried to get comfortable. His body was reminding him of the recent beatings he had endured. As his mind brought up recent memories, one in particular came to the fore. 

There had been a Russian observing his interrogations. Napoleon hadn’t known he was Russian until the third day, when he remained behind after a particularly brutal session. The man had claimed to be an acquaintance of Illya’s but hadn’t sounded particularly friendly.

He opened his eyes finally and found his partner standing at the window. He was looking out, but seemed to be seeing something other than the view in front of him.

“Tovarisch?”

“Napoleon!” Illya exclaimed, suddenly emerging from his reverie. “You have returned to the living.”

“Yes, with the help of your friend.”

“Radomil is not a friend,” Illya explained. “He was once, long ago. Now, he is someone whose secret I exploited.”

Napoleon frowned. Illya’s tone had sounded impassive, but Solo could see the pain in his eyes, which told a different story. 

“What secret?” he asked.

Illya remained quiet for a long time, before deciding that Napoleon was a man he actually could trust. He’d already explained the situation to Waverly so, even if Napoleon weren’t his friend, he was the CEA and probably should know. Sitting down, he explained how he knew Radomil.

“When I heard him on the phone I was stunned,” Illya continued. “He was selling out our friends. For some time, anyone who had shown even the slightest sign of subversion disappeared for a short time. When they returned, they were different somehow. I soon learned that they had been taken to witness the interrogations of their family members. It was all designed to bring people back into line before they deviated too far. Radomil was the one informing on everyone.”

“But how would this information be of use now?”

“Radomil still lives and works in Moscow,” Illya explained. “He is a go-between for Thrush, and the Russian underworld, but I know that he is still acquainted with many of the people he betrayed.”

Napoleon nodded his understanding. Should any of them get wind of his previous actions, his life would be forfeit.

“Thank you for telling me this, Tovarisch. It can’t have been an easy thing for you.”

Illya shrugged. He had many past lives, which occasionally came back to haunt him, but he refused to let them spoil his current life. U.N.C.L.E. had given him something he’d never had before, and that included a friendship he would never question.


End file.
